Candle in the Window
by ArsenicAngel
Summary: Hermione has a very Muggle tradition at Christmas time of lighting a candle in the window.


**Disclaimer:** All things _Harry Potter_ are the property of JK Rowling, not me. No money is made off the production of this fan work, so please don't sue me. At best, I can pay you in pocket lint.

Lots of love to lorcalon for the beta.

Written for dhr_advent on LJ.

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><p><em>"What is that for?"<em> he'd asked her, watching her place the candle in the window on their first Christmas together. Her box of maroon ornaments had been left untouched, pushed to the back of the narrow hall closet, since she'd been unable to find anything in an appropriate shade of green to represent Slytherin. Instead, she'd done up her small flat in white, silver, and gold, doing her best to incorporate a sense of both of them with the decorations. He'd smiled when he came in and saw it all, making it worth every Knut she'd spent to add the silver ornaments to her collection just for him.

_"It's a Muggle tradition,"_ she'd explained. _"You light a candle in the window on Christmas Eve as a welcome, and you're meant to leave the door unlocked as well. Mum and Dad always told me that it helped Santa find our house."_

Draco had scoffed, then, murmuring about Muggles and their 'silly habits'. He'd refused to apologise for it, even when she'd levelled her sternest glare at him, but her annoyance had quickly blown over. He'd had the grace to stay quiet about it for the rest of the night, and although she'd caught him rolling his eyes a bit when she snuffed out the flame in the morning, he had left her to her tradition.

Sighing, Hermione shook her head, trying to shake off the thoughts of Draco while she brought the lit match in her hand to the candle's wick. They hadn't even made it a year together, and that first Christmas had also been their last. She'd been the one to break things off, storming off in a huff after one of their arguments that, in retrospect, he had been in the right on. Afterwards, she'd blown off all of his attempts to apologise and after nearly a week of trying, he had finally listened to her demands that he bugger off and had just stopped trying.

She hadn't seen him since.

Hermione pursed her lips as she tore her gaze away from the flickering flame to look out the window at the darkened sky outside. Snow was falling heavily obscuring most of the view. It had been the same last year, she remembered. She and Draco had spent most of the night curled beneath a blanket together on her sofa, cupping mugs of hot chocolate in their hands and watching the snow fall through the window.

Sucking in an unsteady breath, she forced herself to step back away from the window, trying to convince herself again that the past three months alone were for the best. The argument hadn't worked so far, though, and Hermione found herself reaching for her coat a moment later.

_Just a look at the Manor, and then I can leave,_ she promised herself while twining a scarf around her neck. _One look, and then it's time to put him behind me._

She Apparated to a spot a short walk away from the Manor, and quickly cast a warming charm over herself to ward off the cold air and snow blowing in her face. Tucking her wand into her pocket, she pulled her coat tight around herself and trudged up the snow-covered hill. The snow clung to her hair and her clothes, and she ducked her head to keep it from catching in her lashes and obscuring her vision further.

She'd never seen the Manor at Christmas, since they had stayed at her flat the last year. But they had talked about celebrating there this year – if they'd lasted long enough for that – and she wondered how the expansive grounds would look covered in snow. Would she catch a glimpse of Christmas lights through one of the windows? Did they decorate the grounds at all?

When she stepped up to the top of the hill, Hermione stopped, her gaze riveted on the snow beneath her feet. She took a moment, before she raised her eyes towards the Manor's grounds, to steel herself against whatever emotions seeing Draco's home might bring on. Despite the attempt, when she looked up, the scene before her stole her breath away.

There were no lights glittering in the trees on the grounds, but the snow around the building reflected glints of gold. Tears pricked Hermione's eyes as she looked on in disbelief at the candles flickering in every window of the Manor, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She reached up and swiped the back of one gloved hand across her eyes, hesitating only a moment longer before she started scrambling down the hill towards the gate.

Her heart raced as she made her way as quickly through the snow as she was able, only slowing once she was on the flat path that led to the gate, anticipating it stopping her to ask why she was there. Instead, the iron bars held their shape, and with her brow furrowed, she reached out to touch them, letting out a sharp huff of a laugh when the gate swung inward.

_He remembered..._

Hermione's shoes slipped a bit in the snow as she ran up the path towards the Manor, slowing her down a bit. Before she was halfway there, she saw the door swing open and Draco stepped outside, bundled in his own coat. The grey wool scarf she'd given him for his birthday was wrapped around his neck, and she saw the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. He stepped out into the snow to meet her, wrapping his arms around her waist as though it were an every-day occurrence when she threw herself at him.

"Why?" she whispered against his shoulder.

"The wards triggered as soon as you came through the gate... I was afraid you'd turn back if I didn't come out."

Frowning, Hermione swatted lightly at him, melting further into his embrace. "Why the candles, Draco?"

He was silent for a long moment, until she started to think that he wouldn't answer her. Tipping her face up to look at him, she found him gazing down at her with the same longing in his eyes she'd been fighting within herself for the past three months. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, and she only realized that he wasn't wearing any gloves when she felt the warmth of his palm against her flesh.

"I've missed you," he murmured. "_If_, by some chance, you'd thought about me tonight, I wanted you to know, without a doubt, that you were welcome here..."

Hermione felt tears pricking her eyes again at his words, and she leaned up to press her lips to his. To her relief, Draco pulled her closer, threading his fingers into her hair. He pressed another kiss against her hair after they broke apart, bringing a smile to her lips.

"Would you like to come inside?" He smiled when she gave him an uncertain glance. "We did decide this would be my year to host, didn't we?"

She let out a quiet sigh of relief at his easy forgiveness. "Yes," she whispered, leaning up to brush her lips against his cheek once more. "We certainly did."


End file.
